Free No Returns by Rhonda Pollero Page B

while with company.”
    “You’re right. Sorry. Deacon, could you stop at the next service station? I’m afraid I’m a little car sick from sitting in the backseat.”
    “I’m afraid that isn’t an option,” he said as he reached into the door compartment and produced a small but deadly looking gun. He pointed it at my mother’s temple.
    “What are you doing?” she gasped.
    His answer was to slap her with the barrel. “Pass your phone to your mother,” he barked at me.
    I had no choice but to comply. I was scared but also looking around to see if there was anything I could use for protection. Nothing.
    My mother was sobbing quietly. I was wondering if I could smack him on the head with my shoe and still avoid an accident. Not likely. I didn’t want to die saving myself and my mother.
    Deacon headed for the Intracoastal instead of the country club. Dread washed over me. The last time a lunatic took me to the water’s edge it didn’t turn out so well for me. I reached up and patted my mother’s shoulder.
    “So all this was you?” I asked.
    “It was supposed to be clean and quick,” he answered. “Then your mother had to bring you and your friends into the loop.”
    “You killed Steven Buckner?”
    “Necessary if distasteful. Buckner was just supposed to get the video and leave the rest to me. Once that happened, he was no longer needed.”
    “So the whole Deacon Burlington is a sham?” I asked.
    “Actually Mr. Burlington does exist, but he’s indisposed. He’s been in a coma for the last six years. An auto accident.”
    “You became him and decided to go trawling for someone with money?”
    He snorted. “My funds are almost depleted. I needed a good score. And your mother was wonderful,” he said as he ran the gun along her cheek. “I even conned her into paying my hotel bills so my alleged wife wouldn’t find out about us. Did you know she’s remodeling her place just for me? I thought about sticking it out and playing the part but she’d have found out I was a fraud when I didn’t bring any money to the table.”
    He pulled into Jupiter Heights Marina and my heart sank. It was a very private club with few people around. I mouthed help to the guy at the guard shack but he was more interested in checking the sticker on Deacon’s windshield. I tried again. He gave me a little wink. I sensed this would not end well.
    “Finley, stay in the car. Cassidy, sit there for a second and do not move.”
    He got out and I quickly said, “Hand me my phone.”
    “He said to stay still,” she snapped.
    Deacon, er, Gerald, opened my mother’s door and yanked her from the car. She dropped her purse and everything scattered, including my phone. Next it was my turn.
    “Walk down that dock,” he said, his gun tucked against my mother’s ribcage.
    I did as I was told, hoping beyond hope that I might run into someone I could signal. I smelled diesel and my own fear. And FYI – designer heels are not ideal on a boat dock.
    None of the boats on this pier were occupied. Deacon steered us to the next to last slip. It was a large boat out of Rhode Island, attached to the dock by rope and cleats.
    “Board,” he instructed.
    “What is your plan?” I asked. “I have friends who know about you.”
    “Like Liam?” he sneered.
    The thought of Liam being hurt sent a chill the length of my spine. “Among others. You can let us go. You know my mother won’t get the authorities involved. Not so long as you have the DVD.”
    “I know. That’s why you aren’t dead yet. Go below,” he said, waving the gun toward the lower compartment.
    There was a bunk table and a small kitchen. It smelled musty. Deacon had us sit on the bench. He tied my ankles, then tied my hands, and finally tied me to my mother. We were back-to-back. I could feel my mother shaking.
    “Stay put,” he said, then he went back up top.
    As soon as he was out of sight, I said, “We’re going to crab walk.”
    “What?” my mother